Rainbow
moments
divide
our
desires
into a
spectrum
that
can
never be simplified
by colours alone
X

The musician

Nothing more
&
nothing less than
a travelling instrument,
with
the voice of a thousand ashtrays
&
the past of a thousand mistakes.

Living life out  a suitcase,
and abused stained sheet music,
a sweet movement,
some say.

Some said he was to cute to change;
he would make it someday,
but for now,
just feeling those home town blues,
in a city so far away.

Take a walk in those shoes,
one size too small.
Let the soles talk in rhythms
played,
the beat of the drum conundrum.

Done
London,
LA,
New York
&
Lisbon;

Still searching
for something;

The band missed a beat,
and now he misses the the band.

He’s got the crowd in the palms of his hands,
but they’ll never understand;
the music
man.

I wanted to change the world so it suited my subtleties,
You just wanted to change so you could fit better into society.

You went quietly whilst I went kicking and screaming.
I stayed awake for days whilst you lay next to me sleeping.

Since then,

we only speak in dreams,
and the cooler side of the cushion,
is the opposite team,
& so no it seems,

I’ve been lost since you left me,

for dead.

My best friend,
a nest egg
of opportunities.
I was a student of you
&
your beautiful truth,
but
we,
cr ac ke d,

under the pressure;

I still haven’t learn’t my lesson,
but
i’ll treasure you forever,
until we meet again,

Even though now,
you're a shell of your former self.

Nothing in the middle to divide us,
fading health,
too stubborn,
to ask for help.

The snowball effect,
Connects four snowflakes,
A ballerinas tiptoes evades footsteps
On the game board,
A perfect pirouette.
The overtures prologue,
Mother tongues twisted in specific syllables,
To emphasise the divide in culture,
the closeness of nature.
The bubble in a spirit level bursts
And disrupts the axis of the world as we know it.
An Easter egg made of woven hope.
Sweet and septic,
A dangerous connection.
There's electricity in the thunder clouds,
A storms reform,
No prisoners in the matterhorns scorn.
But we must climb to reach the pinnacle of desire,
and grab the bull by its horns.
Torn between the torqiunet,
That restricts our true colours,
The blood seeps through like the Matadors tools.
Only fools would make light of those we share the earth with,
Ma whirlwind changes the landscape,
It can never be the same.
Underneath the terrain,
A lesson remains,
Statuesque,
In the mystery of history's gifts.

Hello sunrise,
My shining subtle friend.
Will you stay with me forever,
No.
For now well  just pretend.

Goodbye darkness,
I confided in deceit,
The secrets that we keep,
Inside
Could bring me to my knees.

Farewell tomorrow,
I loved you in my dreams,
The days go by in couplets
Wise.
But alls not as it seems.

Hold me right now,
Your touch is golden beams,
I've felt you wrap your arms around me
Tight.
And constricted my beliefs.

Here's to yesterday,
The best still yet to come,
Manipulate my finest words
And guise them as a pun.

******* coma

Cool
Calm
Collective,

Constantly
Caught
Consistence,

Common
Cold
Conflicted,

Colossal
Conduct
Clinic,

Climate
Cold
Conscription,

Condemned
Coma
Victim.

There was time my mind was yours,
But my heart is yours regardless,
The beats defined a music sheet and you played me like a harpist.

The score settled like rose petals in the essence of the tarnished
The stems remained like overtures,
And that's where it all started.

You blossomed in the minus key,
Your golden touch was midas
The treasure crept in semi clefts,
The breath I took was harnessed.

I played the jester to your beat
And bowed to you my highness.


You took my crown and held me down
The curtains closed in darkness.

little girl blue,

They reminisce over you,
In the cosmic blues,
A star before the fire sparked,
consistent front page news.

A heart of golden rock and roll,
Nothing stopping you.
The pain inside took its toil,
the grain in your voice and tortured soul,
stole us all from you.

It was time that took your life,
In the the time of your life
You wanted to be loved so much,
but not enough to change your mind.

Now you are a shooting star,
that burnt out years before,
Captured in the music left,
that all of us adore.

Depression Sessions,

Without making light of those trapped in the dark,
that setraline sentimentality exposed modern art.
Theres a cavity in the canvass,
despair and distress,
decayed daily until theres only just the crevasses left.
I digress,
your highness.
High times, crash down finesse.

What did you expect?

Now you're acting as if theres nothing left.
When in three days you’ll make the same mistake again.
Just to take the pain away.
Or so you say.

But you’re not depressed.
Stressed, maybe.
Tired,
jaded maybe,
but the lights not faded you just took the wrong road that day.

Now there’s no way of coming back.
You’re not cool for that, this isn’t a cul-de-sac.
You keep taking me back and I just relapse.
And collapse after the session,
ready for the sentence.

Repentance a breath away.

The level of betrayal
Hit me on multiple levels
Beyond the shadows,
Was it the Devils kiss
Those moonlit craters,
in the gallows,
That created those layers
In the mountains of the Himalayas,
Will they ever tell us,
The secrets lost within those meadows
Flourishing down at base camp.
Flying those false flags in eminence,
whilst were sentenced in the highlands.

Hidden haters,
Camouflaged in winter colours,
the mesa range
a inhabited massif,
A hint of frostbite,
That in hindsight could cost lives,
of those trapped beneath the icy nights.

The snowfall is just drop of ice,
Stinging the eyes of those blinded
by the shards of glass icicles in the avalanche.
A ridge away from the mountain range safety nets.
Disrespected tor of mother natures indignation.
Only the indigenous survive.

Yet in the flames of exasperation,
In the footsteps of evanesce,
A liquesce renders the snow storm useless,
as the sun melts the inundation of the snow slide.

An aubade ray takes over the landscape,
oxidating snowflakes one by one like a machine guns wake.

The temperate rise coincides with the rise of hope within the atmosphere.
The patterns clear and the same mistakes will be made over and over again
until the atmosphere is damaged so severe;

The sun itself will cry a tear.